


His Ire (excerpt from The Bridge)

by wyrm_n_sigun



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Parental Support, Scolding, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 17:30:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2859074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyrm_n_sigun/pseuds/wyrm_n_sigun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hiccup fucked up. Stoick gives him a talking-to, and some advice.</p>
<p>Set some 2 years after HTTYD1. Hiccup is 17.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Ire (excerpt from The Bridge)

**Author's Note:**

> So lemme explain: basically, this is a scene from a larger fic I had started to write, called The Bridge, which focuses on Hiccup and Stoick between movies. I sent it to Andrea (axonmanage on tumblr) as a one-off thing and then she went and started to make a comic out of it???? [ Here ](http://axonmanage.tumblr.com/post/106250224351/im-too-excited-about-this-haha-and-i-can-barely)  
> I figured I'd share it since she's started this epic comic, and I don't know if I will ever get The Bridge finished. So enjoy this on its own?

 

 

His dad was imposing on the best of days. 

 

Hiccup couldn't help his little jerk when the Hall door closed behind him. He walked over, eyes angry and stinging at the ground. 

 

"Is your face alright?"

 

"Course."

 

His father cast a shadow across him. But then he sat at the nearest table. 

 

"Sit down," he said, rubbing his temple and sounding surprising-gentle.

 

Hiccup sat across from his father, but turned half away. He didn't look up. 

 

He could feel the heat in his face. It made him feel childish.

 

"What do you think I'm going to say, son?"

 

Hiccup didn't want to answer. His mouth twisted, shoulders hunched. The painted shield on the wall was watching. 

 

"You're gonna say that you're very disappointed in me, because I wrecked the training ring and those sheep almost got trampled, and it's a huge mess. It's not good conduct for the chief's son to still cause mayhem all the time and it's embarrassing. Everyone had thought I'd grown up and stopped this and you're finding out now it's not true."

 

"Good. Then I don't need to say any of it."

 

Momentary confusion and burning hurt warred in Hiccup. He ducked his head. 

 

"Look, son... I _am_  disappointed."

 

"I thought you said you didn't need to say it."

 

" _Hiccup."_  


He held his tongue. With a great sigh, Hiccup's father stood then, and began pacing. Hiccup stayed seated, glaring at the rushes and his mismatched feet.

 

"I don't know how to say this, son. Yes, I am disappointed. But it's not all that much to do with you being the heir, or even being my son. It's about you being -- well,  _you,_ " he finished with a floundering gesture at his son. Hiccup rolled his eyes.

 

"Yeah, thanks. But I thought I said that."

 

" _Will you let me finish!"_  


Hiccup glanced up at his father's raised voice, and swallowed. His dad then slumped, and rubbed his brow. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled."

 

Hiccup could only nod wordlessly. 

 

"Right. As I was  _trying_ to say, Hiccup, I'm disappointed in you -- and I don't mean for being whatever... whatever I'd meant, before. That's not what I mean. So you can stop looking ready to run off. I mean, fighting with your cousin -- that's not you, son." 

 

He sat down again. 

 

"You're a good lad, and I'm proud of you. Nothing changes that. You're not a fighter, and that is no shame." 

 

Hiccup looked up, barely, mouth tight and eyes tearing. 

 

"You're smarter than this. You're smarter than what you did today -- letting Snotlout goad you into a fight. I know you two don't get on but you still let him get to you."

 

"What, so, so what should I have done?" Hiccup's voice was riddled with hot tears. "Just -- walked away? Refused? That's heroic."

 

His father fixed him with a level look then, a mixture between a potent glower and a kind and sad remembrance. "What do you think?"

 

Hiccup snorted hard, looking away again to hide the tears that hadn't fallen yet. His hands scrunched hard and sweaty in his tunic. "I think I should have known I'd lose."

 

"Hiccup, we'd be having the same exact talk if you'd won."

 

Stoick sighed, head in his hands. Hiccup took his averted gaze as an opening to wipe his eyes with his sleeve and face him again. 

 

"Look, son... Snotlout's a fighter. He's also thick as a mountain, and he's not to be chief of Berk. Berk doesn't need him as chief, and I don't need him for my son. We want Hiccup."

 

The tears came back as Hiccup's dad reached to clasp his shoulder in a broad hand; the tears this time were more bewildered than belligerent. 

 

"Do you ken what I mean?"

 

"... Not really."

 

"Ah... that's alright, I'm not quite sure what I mean, myself. But remember it. I think you'll figure it out eventually. You're a smart lad."

 

"... I... thanks, Dad. I think."

 

Hiccup's entire body rocked as his father shook his shoulder firmly. It was as close to an embrace as they could muster. Then, the hand let go.

 

"Now off with you; go get your face fixed up. I'll see you at home."

 

"I told you, I don't ne --"

 

"That's an order, Hiccup." 

 


End file.
